Star Wars Episode VII: Shadow of War
by shadowfang6421
Summary: An Empire doesn't crumble with it's Emperor, but it must evolve. 25 years after a formal peace the galaxy is once again on the brink of war, however nothing is as simple as it seems. A new era begins and with it, new heroes must arise to keep the galaxy from being set aflame once again.
1. Prelude

Star Wars Episode VII: Shadow of War

It is a turbulent time for the galaxy. Split between the IMPERIAL REMANENT and the NEW REPUBLIC, all that separates the galaxy from all-out war is a small demilitarized zone. However, that does not keep either side from trying to destabilize the other.

A faction of IMPERIAL SYMPATHIZERS, spearheaded by the infamous KYLO REN, seeks to tear down the New Republic from the inside.

Despite their best efforts, GENERAL SOLO and SENATOR ORGANA have been unable to quell this all too familiar force without the help and support from JEDI GRANDMASTER LUKE SKYWALKER who has since disappeared after reestablishing the Jedi Order.

Now on the verge of the anniversary of the reformation of the Republic some feel that the terrorist fighters are planning something greater….


	2. Chapter 1: Artifacts of the Past

Star Wars: Shadow of War

Ch 1: Artifacts of the Past

Theeb's always irritated Kylo Ren, it brought back memories, warm summer days, vast fields to play in, and luxury homesteads.

The only problem was he could only remember himself alone in those memories.

Blinking those thoughts out of existence, he stalked forward with his company of black-cloaked figures.

He ignored his robes being soaked in the rain and as he ran through the puddles lining the streets, he set his mind towards the mission, and the mission was all the mattered.

Reaching the building, one of his surrounding companions stepped forward and brought out an unfamiliar device.

Looking behind his shoulder he looked down the deserted streets checking once more if anyone would disturb them. Sensing nothing, he didn't hesitate once the door opened and they all shoveled through.

War was not something Nabooians were very fond of, Kylo knew that to be certain, but that didn't mean they were lacking in experience.

A trade blockade here, a small incursion by Separatist forces there, they were inclined to have a war museum in their capital city, even more so with the once Supreme Chancellor hailing from their very planet.

As the group walked through the displays of miniature Venator Star destroyers and destroyed or deactivated B1 battle droids, Kylo's mask automatically switched to night vision, but there was something else he couldn't see. He could feel the Force flowing through the collection.

War was a natural feeding ground for the Dark Side, it was drawn to it, and in turn, it seemed to guide war itself.

Reaching their target another of his companions brought out a cylindrical device. Shooting a laser from its tip, it slowly began to melt through the glass surrounding their objective.

Each of them had studied it, the small grey and yellow spherical device which had three prongs protruding from it was arguably capable of being one of the most dangerous weapons to be designed during the Clone Wars.

And developed on one of the most peace-loving planets in the Republic, how ironic.

Letting his guard drop Kylo began to examine the display case opposite of the one they were currently breaking into.

Standing tall, an original Phase I clone trooper armor stood, even its signature spike on its' helmet was shined to perfection as if it had never seen war before.

Its owner was clear, even without reading the plaque before it, Kylo could instantly tell from its blue stripes that it belonged to the 501st.

A feeling of pride flowed through him, a piece of history stood right….

The faintest spike of something in the distance immediately took his attention.

Like a predator zeroing in on its' prey, he focused.

"Hurry up, we have company." He instructed his companions, silently they all nodded, and visibly began to work faster.

Closing his eyes Kylo stretched out his senses, he focused on everything and nothing, only allowing the force to guide him through the exhibits.

The dark whispered and coxed him to where he should be looking. He zeroed in, his mind becoming clearer as he could make out….

"Sir,"

Opening his eyes and turning to see that his black-clad figures had retrieved the device he nodded.

"Lets go."

Rushing back out into the rain, they quickly hurried down the street. Kylo was on edge, he knew that signature, it had been trailing them for the last week as they collected what was required, and it seemed that now they were going to make they move.

Leading his group, the water soaked them as it splashed up while they ran through puddles. Taking little note of it, they hurried on with Kylo at the very front, directing them back to the spaceport.

Suddenly he stopped.

Holding out his arms, he motioned for the rest of the group to do the same, and to stay behind him.

In front, blocking their way, was a different cloaked figure, a grey cloth concealing their identity.

The reaction the group was instantiations, several blasters were produced from under tunics, and pointed towards whoever dared to block their escape.

Slowly Kylo lowered his arms, resting them on top of the blasters, motioning them to do the same.

"Please take your troops around this block." He instructed.

"But.."

"Now commander."

Begrudgingly they obeyed, each of them returned their blasters to their original place, turned and worked to find a detour.

Once they were out of earshot Kylo smiled under his mask.

"I've been waiting for when you would make your move." He shouted out, in his distorted voice.

.

.

.

"You chose a great night!" he said gesturing to the rain, not getting a response.

.

.

.

"Could I at least get a name?" He asked.

It was only then that two white blades manifested from the stranger's hands.

Smiling under the mask Kylo's heart began to race, the thrill of the battle only beginning to make itself known to his body.

"Shame, I wish I could have known who was about to die." He said as blue and red hue light up the street.

(0)

Ukio was not considered a beautiful world, it was not as mountainous and jagged as Alderan was, it was not a world-city like Corsaunt, and it was not lush with dangerous fauna like some outer-rim worlds.

It was actually rather flat.

And warm.

And green.

Ukio was known for one thing… food.

It's populous was aware of that, and prided themselves on it. After all who was going to feed Coruscant?

Ukio was considered to be one of, if not the most productive Agri-World in the core systems.

Over the thousands of years, the Jedi had been present on the planet, it had been systematically flattened (at least even more than it was before) to the point that nearly all its suitable land was used to grow crops.

Privy to the Agri-Corps before the Empire, it again found itself useful to the New Jedi Order, which had once again been welcomed by the natives.

If one was to find themselves at any random point on the planet, they would most likely be surrounded and lost in rather tall crops and only hear the occasional automated droid tending to the miles of irrigation lining the fields.

Only a handful of population centers called this planet their home, and at any of these, a rejected Jedi cadet would dreaded to find themselves.

"I'm not doing it!"

It just so happened that she also found herself here.

"Rey…"

"No."

"_Rey_."

"I'm not going to archive all this!" An obviously irate young woman bellowed as she gestured towards the newly offloaded bundle of crates.

"The council has decided Ukio is going hold artifacts found across the galaxy until they can be sent back to Coruscant, isn't this better than working in the fields?"

Rey just rolled her eyes "At least I get fresh air, I'll suffocate down here!"

The Togruta rubbed his temples, "You've already handled the first shipment, I really don't want to teach someone else how to use the system, you volunteered…"

"For the first one!"

Jedi Master Tyzen took a deep breath, "Don't make me threaten you Rey, just get it done, that's an order."

With that Master Tyzen closed the lift's door and headed back for the surface.

Rey just yelled at the open chamber before here, a bellowing echo being her only response.

Since the revival of the order, only the Agri corps had been reactivated, the rest of the Service branches hadn't even been touched, so that meant a lot their responsibilities seemingly got dumped on them.

The only good thing about this was she was alone, away from everyone topside that seemed to enjoy the simple life of tending to crops, this was only a sliver more interesting.

Waltzing over the giant pile of crates and storage containers she smirked to herself. The Empire in the ultimate wisdom had decided to build massive underground storage facilities for stockpiling food, now it would be the warehouse of the Jedi order.

Looking over the towering job before her she shrugged, might as well have fun with it.

Slowing her breath, she reached out her senses, at first, she wasn't prepared the mass amounts of light and dark energy surrounding the pile, but once she simply ignored it, she reached out for the first box.

At first, there was nothing, again she reached out, this time she saw it wiggle just slightly until she reached out a third time.

Rising off the pile, she lowered the respectable box to the floor, it wasn't tiring at all, just a bit time consuming, she wasn't willing to get in trouble for breaking priceless artifacts, now was she?

It seemed like forever till she was able to even make a dent in the massive pile before her. Working up a sweat she whipped her forehead and let down the braid that concealed her respectably long brunette hair.

She thanked the force that she was able to get away with wearing none standard robes, the new ones the Order had been handing out were simply too thick and scratchy. She preferred a rather thin pair that she had belonged to the Jedi Order before the Empire, now that was quality.

Of course, the fact that it was considered an artifact didn't stop her from making it her own, cutting the sleeves off and allowing more air flow seemed like the logical thing to do after all, fingerless gloves that reached up her biceps would be much less restricting in combat.

The hours dragged on, and just as she was reaching her half way point, she heard the lift door open behind her.

Cursing under her breath she turn to see what Master Tyzen could possibly want now, only to find not only brought himself, but a tray of food, seemingly a piece offering, and another helper, a declaration of war.

"Rey…" He said almost as if talking to a raging animal.

"Get him out of here." She said simply as she pulled down another crate right between her and her newfound companions.

Sighing the Jedi Master just put the tray he had brought down on the crate.

"I think you could use the help."

"Nope." She said while bringing down another crate, this time a small thud.

"Listen, Bolla…"

"I DON'T WANT HIM HERE!" Rey yelled, suddenly raising five crates from the top of the pile and slamming them into the floor.

It seemed that it was lucky none of them shattered.

Master Tyzen frowned at the outburst. "You will bring Bolla up to speed on the catalog system, that's final."

With that he turned around, and headed swiftly up the lift.

Now it was just the two of them.

"Well…."

Before the Rodian could said another word, he was Force pushed against one of the support pillars.

"These are the rules." Rey said, marching towards him.

"You're gonna sit right there, and you will watch me, when I tell you, and _only_ when I tell you, you will stand up and do what I say!"

The Rodian just nodded, his small mouth curling up into a tiny smile.

Leaving the weasel to sit Rey checked to make sure the crates she had thrown down were still able to be moved.

"Well this gives us time to talk about my proposition…"

Oh, there it was.

"I told you once slimeball, I don't want in."

Bolla just laughed, "C'mon, you're the only one here that's actually competent at using the Force, imaging all the goods we could get in."

"I think you mean smuggle in." Rey retorted.

He shrugged "You call it smuggling, I call it business, whatcha say?"

"The answer is still no, I'm not gonna risk getting kicked out of this place…"

"Oh yeah, Luke Skywalker's pet is too good to work with a _smuggler_." Bolla mocked "Just don't let me bring up Han Solo, ok?"

"He'll be back," _He promised._

Instinctively Rey's hand reached for the red crystal around her neck, a gift, a promise.


	3. Chapter 2: Scars of Conflict

Star Wars: Shadow of War

Ch 2: Scars of Conflict

As the ancient freighter entered the atmosphere Kylo Ren couldn't help but grip the controls every so tighter. Not only did he have to worry about his ship burning up, but he also had to deal with a trigger-happy garrison that was practically begging for action.

As Kylo entered the proper security clearances into his console he watched as two TIE Defenders appeared out of the heavy cloud cover and took up positions flanking his ship.

Receiving a visual thumbs up from the pilots, Kylo flew to a lower altitude, the ship's sensors guiding him to the assigned hanger.

Nearer to the ground he peered out the window to see the dark green and browns of the planet which the First Order had decided to build their base. It was a nameless backwater planet, somewhere in the middle-rim. Thick forests and marshlands were the only things that this rock had to offer, though nothing of the magnitude of Kashyyyk.

With his sensors beeping at him he once again corrected his course; the landing pad was visible by now as well as the rock cliff he would be smashing into if he didn't stop soon. Landing, he peered out his cockpit as the ground crew scurried to work inspecting the ship for trackers.

Shaking his head, he rose from his seat slowly, the wounds he had received by that Force user's hand were just starting to catch up with him.

Feeding those emotions of the force, he willed himself to head into the main area of his ship. Looking over his commandos, he nodded to them. Collecting their supplies and weapons they all filed out of the ship in an orderly fashion like true military men.

He followed in suit, walking down the ramp head held high and scanning the grounds crew who all cowered away from his gaze.

None of them objected as he inspected the hull of his dark grey ship, all of them making sure not to disturb him as he caressed the familiar durasteel.

In all the Millennium Falcon seemed to be all right.

The black panels that now lined the ship's hull had held up nicely since he added them, the grey hull that could be seen between their gaps had barely any wear on it at all. The Nabooians hadn't even seen him enter the atmosphere on their scanners. It was a nice addition, a gift from the Imperials.

Walking out from under its elliptical hull, he spotted just a certain captain he truly wished he wouldn't have to deal with.

As she stalked up to him, he rolled his eyes under his mask at the ridiculous armor she and her elites chose to wear.

Dark Trooper armor had admittedly been the best in the galaxy, it was a wonder how she was able to get here hands on a single Phase III suit at all, but the fact she had to line her armor with Chromium it just screamed arrogance to him.

"Captain," He greeted, having to look up at the towering armor.

"Unable to dodge some blaster fire?" Was Captain Phasma's only response.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Those holes in your cloak from fireworks then?"

"Little altercation with the one who's been stalking us the last few months."

"I'm sure you'll inform us at the debriefing." She said Kylo could practically see her smiling under that helmet.

"Of course," Kylo said walking past the towering bucket of bolts.

Kylo couldn't fathom why she chose to wear that ridiculous armor; one thought was all he needed to snap her neck. In comparison to the force, no life form could possibly make anything close to the same destructive potential.

Stalking through the underground base he silently thanked his reputation, as everyone hurried to make it out of his way, after all, you wouldn't want to find yourself on the end of Kylo Ren's wrath would you.

So, after finding his way through the mountain-side base, he punched in his code for his quarters.

As the door shut, he did the first thing he always did, a pneumatic hiss resounded as he walked in his quarters as his mask depressurized.

Lifting it from his head, he went to place it on its own bench, surrounded by the tools, bits of wiring and spare parts, anything he might need to fix any of its' already numerous modifications.

Heading to his sleeping quarters, he stood in front of his mirror and began to undress, carefully placing each piece of burnt cloth on his bed he looked over the wounds he had received.

His eyes first glanced at his right arm, blackened, and wrinkled. A darkness spiraled up his arm like a tentacle that could not be cut away. It was stained, its very core being painted by the Dark Side. It did not lack any normal function, though Kylo always found it a bit easier to channel the force through it.

Turning his attention back to his new injuries, he noted the minor nicks on the arms that had been dampened by the armor plates under his cloak paired nicely with a rather nasty gash on his thigh they were his rewards for being so sloppy, it had been a long time since he had engaged another force user in serious combat, and it was starting to show.

He was rusty.

However, it was what they had revealed about themselves to him which truly stood out from his encounter. The swift counterattacks showed them as a practitioner of Form V, but the use of two lightsabers, Jar'Kai, was strange for that form, even more so that one of them was a shoto.

However, Kylo could see that, while the will and training were there, the body was not. Each blow he landed, even small ones shook his opponent. They were obvious either frail or much more importantly old.

Either way, it couldn't be a coincidence that they chose to strike now. They must have known what was being taken and the significance of it.

Whoever they were, it was disturbing to find someone so close to compromising the mission, Hux was not going to be happy to hear the news.

Summoning a medical droid to his quarters he waited for the pneumatic hiss to signal its' arrival. A few moments later, with a Bacta patch firmly applied, Klyo put on fresh robes and headed towards his collection.

As he slid the door upon he squinted as he walked into the white-lit room. It was small, a storage space originally, but he had changed it into something greater.

Dozens of artifacts lined the walls and shelves, a testament to his years-long ambition to collect. He walked up to his favorite display, a spoil from the late General Grievous' lair. Running his hands over the dozens of lightsabers lined up, he closed his eyes and felt the force ripple through them, like shockwaves from the past conflict.

And perhaps the greatest find from that lair resides right next to it, Grievous' custom medical droid, and a few remaining armor pieces that had actually been attached to the cyborg at one point. The most amazing of which was a battle-damaged mask that stood as a centerpiece for the display.

Those empty eye sockets could only stare back coldly at him, the legend that had been the scourge of the Jedi before Vader wouldn't reveal anything more to him.

After all, this was probably the best artifact in the galaxy that was connected to the general. It was a shame that he had been interrupted during that particular mission, it would have been nice to recover another artifact for his collection.

Turning away from it, he looked at another shelf, resting there were lines of polytopes, ranging from cubes to icosahedrons. Each with its own wisdom to depart on its user, each with its own history.

The Holocrons seemed to be alive as each pulsed with light.

Mandalorian armor, clone weapons, deactivated battle droids, he made sure he could collect it all.

But his crowning achievement was resting in the back.

Approaching it with the same reverence as a priest would a sacred artifact, Kylo laid his eyes on his three most amazing displays.

Two were found on Endor, and the third was the fruit of wading through the black market and underworld slime for nearly a year.

As he approached, he could almost physically feel the darkness radiating off the objects, let alone the force, but he didn't recoil, he reveled in it.

In the front case, a black glove, and above it the remains of a golden prosthetic, dirtied, but not destroyed by fire.

Behind the center, an empty case, for a future saber that would one day be his.

And in the center, a melted and warped mask, but it was still clearly identifiable.

In all, it was the closest he would get to see Darth Vader alive.

Kneeling down in front of it, he remembered his pilgrimage to Endor. He remembered cutting down the natives that dared attack him and gawked at the idea of them taking down one of the elite divisions of the Empire.

It took weeks of showering the areas near the remains of the Imperial shield generator, but eventually, something so immersed in the force would be found.

The actual hand was another story, it was the only undamaged piece of Vader's suit, all his spares or replacement parts were destroyed when his Super Star Destroyer crashed into the second Death Star.

It held even more Dark Side energy then the helmet did, apparently it had only survived because a technician found it on his way to evacuate the Death Star or at least that was the story. It had found its way onto the black market and then to him.

People clamored for the last remaining piece of Vader, and it ultimately became a powerful symbol, but in a sick twist of fate, it always turned against its owners.

While some chalked it up to legend, a sort of boogeyman tale, Kylo knew it for a fact, each owner would be found dead under mysterious circumstances, seemingly choked to death, and the glove would not be far off.

That was until he found its last owner, he met his fate at the end of a lightsaber.

Now it was his own.

"Grandfather."

For a few moments nothing happened, he reached out with the force mentally scanning the objects in front of him, feeling the lingering darkness they exuded.

"Please," Kylo started, his voice catching in his throat, "I feel it again, the pull to the light."

As the words left his mouth the lights of the room flickered and suddenly dimmed and a chill penetrated his body as the room's temperature noticeably dropped.

.

.

.

Then a mechanical breath.

A red hue invaded his eyesight, one of the lowest magnitude, but he could see it and more importantly, he could feel it.

Looking up the triangular mask looked down on him with insect-like eyes, the mask producing another breath.

The breath quickened, Kylo could feel the disapproval in the stare, the darkness creeping forward.

"Show me again, the power of the darkness."

"and I'll let nothing stand in my way."

The breathing stopped, and the darkness crept forward still, until it ever so lightly touched him, its cold spreading through him like Sith lightning.

Within the blink of an eye, Kylo was no longer kneeling in his quarters, instead, he stood in a carbonite facility, a red hue over his vision, surrounded by eight Jedi.

He towered over them, yet he had no control over himself as he watched one recklessly run towards him, only the be cut down with a lightning strike.

He tore into the Jedi, each fell to his immeasurable strength, each succumbing to the intensity of his blows.

Lifting one into the air by their neck, he felt one strike his back, only to turn and kill the very Jedi that dared lay a hand on him.

Within moments every one of them lay before him, the only sound left in the area was the hum of his crimson lightsaber and the steady breath from his mask.

However, he only had a few fleeting moments to admire the special before him, as quickly as he was taken there, he was brought back, only to find himself alone.

Standing on the shattered remains of a building, Kylo knew this place. He knew it all too well.

Smoke rose over the city's buildings as explosions rippled through the ground under his feet, there was no red hue, there was no mask, it was only him, and the sithpit that had forged Kylo Ren.

"_You couldn't stop…"_

Looking around him, comrades tangled with droids, tangled with the camouflaged armor of the Empire littered the battlefield. Kneeling down he looked over the still body of one he used to call his friend.

"_because you didn't want to."_

All that came next was the impact from a shell right next to him.

Darkness was all he knew.

Weightlessness.

A strange feeling, being in space, without a protective suit or artificial gravity of a ship, yet he was here, the stars a testament to that.

But there was something wrong.

Large yellowish masses moved through his vision, all around them organic horrors moved in unison. More and more came into his vision, all of them moving as one, moving towards something

Suddenly, like coming up for oxygen, the air sucked into his lungs and he was simply unwilling to move.

For a few moments, he just knelt there, the red hue flickering to a purple and back to red.

"It has to be this way." He said to himself, as he stood up, turned, and walked out of the room, reminded by what he had seen.

If only he would have been able to see the blue figure that was now standing in the same place.

* * *

"A JEDI?!" Hux shouted as he slammed his fists down onto the table.

Kylo just stared at him through his mask, Hux may be a competent commander, he might be the only reason this operation was actually capable of working, but he did have a tendency to overreact.

"I don't think they were a Jedi."

"And what exactly gave that away? The fact this person had lightsabers?" Captain Phasma spoke up from her seat next to him. Kylo was able to meet her gaze this time without her stupid helmet blocking her eyes, her amour was much too bulky to be used during meetings instead she found herself in a formal uniform.

Around them, each of the commanders snickered to themselves. Kylo's eye twitched at the idea of snapping each of their useless, squabbling necks. He always felt they didn't truly have the good of the galaxy on their minds.

Hux at least was a reasonable man, one Kylo respected, and once he recomposed himself, he gave a death glare to each of the officers seated with them, the snickering quickly quieted down.

"As the resident Jedi expert, could you elaborate Kylo."

"They weren't strictly a light side user, there were no discernible markings, and no Jedi I know is that old and matching the style fighting they displayed."

Leaning back in his chair Hux frowned "So what are your theories?"

Kylo frowned under his mask, "I don't know, it's an unknown variable."

At that response, Hux slowly stood up and began to pace behind his officers, "I don't like unknown variables."

"Since we have no knowledge as to how much this person may know of our current plan we will accelerate and move up the timeline."

Though an audible outrage resounded from the officers, only one decided to speak directly.

"Sir with all due respect, we haven't even begun to examine the artifacts recovered from this last mission!"

"Well, I expect you will get on that…" Hux retorted, only to get another round of angry objections.

Kylo was well versed in debriefing and meeting procedures this was his time to leave and ironically he found himself sharing a nod with captain Phasma who followed him out.

"Looks like you're going to have to deal with this Jedi you've picked up." She said as the door closed behind them.

Kylo simply nodded, if he could get rid of her…

"By the looks of it, they're going to be quite the handful for you."

She barely felt the force push that pinned her against the wall.

"I'm starting to think you don't hold much stock in ranks _captain_." Kylo spat.

Phasma could feel the beginnings of her windpipe beginning to close as he brought his mask up to her face.

"You gonna do it this time?" She asked with a cocky smile.

Kylo frowned, she really did love this, didn't she?

Releasing her she recomposed herself, only to brush past him. "Shame."

Kylo stalked in the other direction, ironically, she was the last person he could afford to kill.


End file.
